Redux: The Man Behind the Suit
by IantojJackh
Summary: After the events of Countrycide, Jack finally has a long overdue talk with Ianto and things take a turn neither expected, but one they possibly hoped for.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: The Man Behind the Suit (1/2)  
**Author**: iantojjackh  
**Summary**: Set a week after Countrycide, Jack finally has a long overdue talk with Ianto to clear the air  
**Rating**: M - It's Jack and Ianto, what else is expected of them  
**Pairing/Characters**: Jack/Ianto  
**Total Word Count**: ~6k  
**Warnings**: Angst, past childhood trauma  
**Spoilers**: Cyberwoman & Countrycide  
**Disclaimer**: Not mine. Just borrowing  
**Notes**: I reworked an older story of mine that was a bit rough and made it pretty. There are some bits added or made clearer than before. And now it's split into two parts. Please leave a review.

* * *

**_The Man Behind the Suit- Chapter 1_**

Two months had passed since Ianto returned after his four week suspension and it had been a week since the team almost became victims of the cannibalistic village and the tension was thick enough to taste. The renewed team closeness last about two days and things went back as they were, leaving Ianto to be the odd man out again. The Cinderella of Torchwood. Owen and Gwen played none other then the roles of the evil stepsisters.

The normally quiet archivist slash butler slash verbal punching bag was even quieter than before and only answered in one word sentences when ever possible.

It was nearing ten in the evening and not a creature was stirring, not even Myfanwy or a certain nocturnal captain. As usual, Ianto was stuck cleaning up the messes left behind. Messes that no one even attempted to clean up.

Ianto firmly believed that since returning from his suspension that Owen and Gwen were going out of their way to make his job and by extension, his life, as difficult as possible. That was all his life was now: this job. This job was now his penance for betraying those who put their trust in him. Tonight's punishment was to clean up the mess Owen conveniently forgot about after the autopsy of a Weevil that met a gruesome end in a fight with an unknown creature.

The mess was disgusting enough that Ianto had to remove his jacket, which now hung on the upper rails of the autopsy bay and roll up his sleeves. Occasional movement from Jack's office drew Ianto's attention from the disgusting task at hand. Out of everyone, Jack's treatment hurt the most. He refused to even look at Ianto or utter one word to him unless absolutely necessary. Any orders either came through someone else or by electronic means. Before the incident with Lisa, Jack was the only one who did not treat him as some glorified butler and now he simply did not exist.

Ianto was almost finished cleaning when a hand grabbed his wrist. Knowing that only one other person was still in the hub did not stop the blue eyed Welshman from being startled. He looked at Jack's hand on his wrist and slowly shifted his gaze to his eyes. It was the first non-contempt look he had seen from any of his fellow Torchwood staff in a long while, the only exception being Tosh, but things with her were still strained.

"We need to talk," Jack said in his matter of fact way. His hand did not release the hold on Ianto's wrist just in case he tried to make a hasty exit.

"I don't believe either of us have anything to say, sir." Ianto refused to look at Jack in the face, scared to see if there was disappointment in his eyes.

"I've got plenty to say," replied Jack. And Ianto was going to listen whether he liked it or not. Ianto had made stubbornness an art form.

"I'm rather busy, sir. Perhaps some other time," Ianto tried to wrench his hand free to no avail. He felt everything that needed to be said had been said the night he killed Lisa.

"Drop the sir bit, Ianto. My office. Five minutes and don't think of leaving," Jack was tired of the silence even if he had ignored the Welshman too. Ianto was right when he said he cleaned up their shit and then questioned when the last time anyone asked him about his life. Reading a personnel file only gave limited insight into a person and Jack was going to dig beneath the surface to see what made Ianto Jones tick.

"Is that an order, sir?" Now Ianto was just being spiteful and made no attempt to hide his contempt.

"If you want it to be, then, yes, it is." Jack released Ianto's wrist and stood up. This was a far cry from the man who begged for a job and Jack sorely missed the Ianto he was then. The witty, sometimes sarcastic, banter was a think of the past. The flirting and sexual tension was dead and buried. What he wouldn't give to see Ianto wear those jeans that he wore the night they met.

Ianto waited until the last possible second, timing it on his stopwatch, to arrive at Jack's office and saw Jack was nowhere to be found and let out an annoyed sigh.

"And the attitude can go as well," Jack suddenly appeared behind Ianto, whispering the words against his ear. Jack wanted to see if was right about one of his suspicions concerning the young man. When Ianto's back stiffened and there was a slight change in his breath, Jack knew he was right. "You want to hate me, but you can't," his lips lightly brushed against the other man's ear. The woodsy scent was distracting and it drew Jack in closer, tempting him to mark the unblemished neck as his. He was sure a complaint about harassing the staff was seconds away.

"You are so full of yourself," Ianto replied scathingly. He tried to move, but every muscle in his body was frozen. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and shivers travelled down his spine. Ianto tried to convince himself that this was a side effect of the fifty-first century pheromones Jack liked to boast about, but he was not entirely convinced they the only cause of the arousal he began to feel. The only other times he was this turned on by Jack was when he was onto of him in the warehouse and during weapons training when Jack's hands strayed too far from his hips.

Jack chuckled, "That may be true, but you know I'm also right." Finally, he let Ianto have some of his personal space back.

Ianto visibly gulped and closed his eyes, hating himself for the thoughts of Jack wearing his coat and only his coat as it flapped in the wind running through his head. He knew he should not be having these naughty but delicious thoughts. He should be hating Captain Jack Harkness for killing his beloved Lisa, but his heart won the battle with his head. The tension had been there since the beginning and some nights Ianto woke up in a cold sweat from dreams where he and Jack kissed and did things he was not sure to humanly possible. "Bloody coat," he muttered randomly as it had been heavily featured in most of the dreams.

"Yes, blame my coat," Jack was amused by the random statement. "Just so you know, I always intended on giving you a job, but it was fun to watch you squirm and work for it. Plus, I can never resist a man who looked that **GOOD** in jeans."

"You bought me up here to comment on my arse in jeans? If that is all, I have to clean the mess Owen made." He knew Jack was up to something and Ianto was not in the mood for any Harkness games.

"I wasn't just talking about the back," Jack made no effort to hide the fact he was looking over every inch of the other man.

Ianto felt flustered as Jack had crossed several lines with his comment and lascivious look. His whole body turned a deep shade of red and was sure that any attempt to speak would come out as incoherent babble. The only option was for a quick retreat, but Ianto's feet refused to budge. "Stop looking at me like I am a piece of meat."

"The night is still young and I'm still hungry," Jack licked his lips in anticipation. His playful mood quickly turned to the serious. "Sit. Now," he pointed to the chair in front of his desk. Once Ianto complied, Jack moved between the chair and the desk. "I trusted you. More than anyone else here. I let you know things about me that I haven't shared with anyone else and you never once told me about Lisa."

"You never asked. None of you ever asked." Ianto's voice cracked.

"I thought I didn't have to. I thought you trusted me enough to tell me. I should have seen how much you were hurting," Jack reached out to rub a small bit of Weevil gunk off Ianto's cheek. Once he cleared the dirt, Jack's hand stilled, smiling as Ianto started to lean into his hand.

"And see where your arrogance got you," Ianto took a defiant tone, refusing to let his heart win the fight now. When his mind cleared from haze that Jack's touch caused, Ianto jerked his head away. "I never trusted you. I used you so I could have access to the hub to help Lisa." Ianto was sure Jack would be able to see through his lies, but hoped there was an off chance that he did not.

"Really now?" Jack leaned forward, putting his hands on the arms of Ianto's chair. Ianto's personal space was gone again. "I don't believe you. Let me tell you what I think. When you've been around as long as I have, you tend to pick up on a few things. What I think is that you hate yourself right now. Hate yourself because every part of you is screaming that you should hate me, but right now you want to do nothing more than kiss me."

Ianto's pulse quickened and sweat started to glisten on his brow. Heat spread through his whole body. Jack had perfectly nailed the situation and it infuriated Ianto even more. "What do you want from me, Jack? For me to beg for forgiveness? That's not going to happen. I don't want or need your forgiveness." Tears threatened to fall as Ianto tried to make sense of his emotions. Things were never simple when Jack was involved.

"Ianto. Sweet Ianto," Jack reached for the other man's hands. "There is nothing to forgive. I've done things in my past I regret. I'll admit I was a bit petty toward you after it all, but I was hurt. I shouldn't have treated you that way and I'm sorry."

"You just treated me like everyone else did." Ianto pretended it did not bother him because he was going behind their backs, but it hurt a lot. If any of them bothered to notice maybe they would have seen what was going on. Then again, he managed to fool Jack.

"That is going to change. I'll make sure of it; tonight, however, is all about you. I want to get to know the man behind the suit better. I can't imagine how hard it was on you when your mother walked out when you were ten. I'm sorry you had to go through that," Jack knew it was a painful place to start. He chose something that was not in Ianto's personnel file and took a little digging to find out. It was a calculated risk picking an extremely traumatic moment, knowing Ianto would either begin to open up or never speak to him again.

"Where did you learn that?" That day in his life had always felt like a mark of shame and Ianto never talked about it before. What child would admit that his mother did not love them enough to stay and he was the reason she left.

"It doesn't matter. Tell me what happened," Jack ran a hand through Ianto's dark hair and lightly massaged the scalp, trying to put him at ease.

Ianto bit his lip. He had never told this story to anyone, but Jack was as good a person to tell as any. He asked after all. "It was a week after my tenth birthday, my dad had just broken my leg and my sister was arrested for shoplifting. Rhiannon and I were fighting and she pushed me into a full bathtub. My cast was soaking wet and I started to scream like she was trying to kill me. She was threatening to push me in again. My mum, fed up with everything, slapped me across the face and yelled at me to stop being big sissy. I ran away and hid outside all night and when I came home the next morning mum was gone. For months after that my sister said it was my fault she left." It was almost cathartic to finally tell someone else the truth. The reaction from Jack was not what Ianto expected; a single tear rolled down his cheek and a sympathetic look on his face.

"I'm sorry, Ianto. I had no idea," Jack did not expected the story to be so horrid. He saw how it still haunted Ianto to this day. The Captain wanted to take the Welshman into his arms and make the pain disappear. That is exactly what Jack did, pulling Ianto out of the chair and into his arms. "I'm here now, and I'm not going to leave." First a tender kiss was placed against Ianto's temple and then Jack rested his face in the crook Ianto's neck, whispering encouraging and reassuring words.

Ianto's first reaction was to pull away. He tried at first, but did not take long for Ianto to find himself enjoying being in Jack's embrace. It had been too long since someone had been there for him. The feel of Jack's breath on his neck never made him feel so alive before. It was as if every inch of his skin was ablaze with an intensity never felt before, and Ianto realised that Jack Harkness had him hook, line and sinker.

Jack thought it was time to make a move and separated himself from Ianto. His fingers carefully studied the other's face, a smile growing wider as Jack memorised its contours. It was a face he could get used to waking up next to. Jack remained himself that it was too soon for those thoughts, not to mention inappropriate at the moment.

"If you are going to kiss me just do it already," Ianto growled. His breath became more ragged the longer Jack's skilful fingers studied his face. The fingers were rough and soft at the same time and he wanted to experience those hands on other parts of his body. The rational part of Ianto's brain had been beaten into submission by the rest of him. Kissing had better been what Jack had on his mind or Torchwood would be down its tea boy.

Normally Jack would have taken a kiss without permission. What harm could one little kiss cause? But with Ianto he wanted - no- he needed the permission. The ex-time agent was not sure what he felt for the sexy blue eyed man in front of him. Jack only knew it was different than anything before and it was why Ianto's betrayal hurt as much as it did. He had thought long and hard about the events of that night and knew it could have turned out differently if anyone stopped and asked instead of treating Ianto as the invisible man. Now was the time to make up for those times and treat Ianto like the amazing person he was.

At first the kiss was gentle, testing the waters through closed lips. It was only a matter of time before it became more heated as their tongues almost melted together. Jack reached behind himself and cleared off his desk. He could hear Ianto mentally scolding him about the mess. "I'll clean it later."

The kiss was broken only for a moment before it resumed, more passionate than before. Jack backed up so he sat on the edge of the desk, pulling Ianto with him. It was time for the real fun and dirty games to begin. The kisses heated up the hub as lips and hands explored places that they would not dare to with other people around. It did not take long for clothes to be removed and tossed about the office.

During the heat of the moment, Jack popped several buttons off of Ianto's shirt and he heard the sound of displeasure from the neat man. "Sorry about that." Jack moved on, making Ianto's neck his next target.

"No, you're not," Ianto's voice rose several octaves as Jack's tongue flicked over the sensitive flesh. "Oh," he moaned loudly. Ianto had to hold onto something as he felt his knees start to buckle.

"You're right. I'm not sorry," Jack said with a wry grin and pushed Ianto against the wall. Their lips met and transformed into an elaborate tango that only ended when both needed to come up for air.

There was a smug smirk on Ianto's face that made Jack a bit nervous. That is when Ianto got his 'revenge' by ripping Jack's t-shirt off by exploiting a tiny hole already in he fabric.

"Whoops," Ianto said, pretending it was an accident. It was his turn to take charge and he pushed Jack against the desk, kissing him like it would be their last.

The battle for control waged on and made a mess of their clothes and the office. It looked like a bomb had gone off with paper and clothes scattered everywhere. Finally, the heated pair took the action down to Jack's sleeping quarters beneath his office and that was when the temperature went off the charts.

It was good that the hub was empty or else the other members of team Torchwood would think someone was being tortured, but they was sure some of the guests in the vaults and cells were getting an earful.

After several rounds of wild and downright kinky sex, Jack looked up at Ianto, who sat across his lap looking very sexy with his body glistening with sweat, his hair mussed and his blue eyes begging for more Jack.

"It's true what they say about the quiet ones, isn't it? Though you weren't very quiet." His hands rubbed Ianto's legs and slowly made his way up his sides. The skin was so soft and Jack felt like he could touch it until the end of time. Jack spent several minutes watching his fingers brush back and forth against the curve of Ianto's back, his smile growing wider by the second.

"Careful, some might consider that kind of touching harassment, sir." Ianto said with a half smirk as his own hands massaged Jack's chest.

Jack could only laugh as he raised an eyebrow. "This coming from someone sitting naked on my lap and touching me like that. I think tonight goes beyond any and all kinds of harassment," he slid his hands down the younger man's back one last time before cupping Ianto's buttocks and flipping him over so he was pinned beneath him.

Another hour later and one more round of innovative experimenting, as Jack had dubbed it, followed by a second round in Jack's office where their activities almost broken the captain's desk, Jack watched as Ianto slept peacefully. His fingers lightly carded through the younger man's hair and a huge smile spread across Jack's lips as he thought he could get used spending his nights like this. Before tonight Ianto seemed to be in tune with his every need and after tonight that skill extended into the bedroom. "Sweet and naughty dreams, sexy one." A quick kiss was placed on the sleeping man's forehead before Jack resumed watching the naked Welshman sleep.

However, the peace was shattered thirty minutes later when Ianto started thrashing in his sleep and screaming as if he was being tortured.

**_To be continued..._**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: The Man Behind the Suit (2/2)  
**Author**: iantojjackh  
**Summary**: Set a week after Countrycide, Jack finally has a long overdue talk with Ianto to clear the air  
**Rating**: M - It's Jack and Ianto, what else is expected of them  
**Pairing/Characters: **Jack/Ianto  
**Total Word Count:** ~6k  
**Warnings**: Angst, past childhood trauma  
**Spoilers**: Cyberwoman & Countrycide  
**Disclaimer**: See profile  
**Notes**: I reworked an older story of mine that was a bit rough and made it pretty. There are some bits added or made clearer than before. And now it's split into two parts.

* * *

**_The Man Behind the Suit_**

"Ianto! Ianto! Wake up," Jack held Ianto's wrists to stop them from flailing and from him hurting either of them. When calling out did not wake the sleeping Ianto, Jack started to shake him. First gently, and then harder until the Welshman finally snapped out of the violent slumber.

Ianto woke up with a start, his blue eyes darting around wildly, trying to figure out the unfamiliar surroundings. Sweat soaked him and the sheets as he gasped for air. Still unaware of where he was, Ianto felt the hands confining him and pushed back. "Get off me." His breathing was still out of control.

The nightmare was always the same: reliving the Battle of Canary Wharf. One of twenty-seven survivors out of eight hundred and twenty three people. The only sound he heard was a crash followed by some cursing. It took a minute for the disoriented man to gather his wits and realise what happened. It only made the sick feeling in his stomach worse. It was as if there was a series of knots from Ianto's stomach to the back of his throat. "Shit, Jack. I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Ianto leapt forward to see how seriously he had injured Jack.

Jack groaned and held the back of his head which was sticky with blood and hurt worse than getting shot. He had hit one of the metal ladder rungs very hard and if he were a normal person Jack would have needed several stitches to close the wound. "I should be the one asking you that." Ignoring the pain and blood oozing from his head, Jack returned to the bed and tried to comfort Ianto.

"I'm fine," Ianto said gruffly. "I forgot where I was for a moment. That's all." Then he saw the blood on the wall and panicked. "How bad is it?" Ianto knelt behind Jack and examined the his head and saw the blood but no wound. Confused did not begin to explain it. It was just like the first time they met with the wound from the Weevil. "How is that possible?" Ianto picked Jack's hair apart, looking for any signs that his head had been split open and nothing could be found.

"I'm a fast healer," Jack knew what Ianto was trying to do and he was not going to have any of it. "About that nightmare..." Jack steered the conversation back onto Ianto's dream.

"I don't know what you mean." The stubborn side of Ianto put the walls back up, trying desperately to hide the truth. He had already divulged his most painful childhood memory, but he was not ready to recount the gruesome details of what exactly happened to him that horrible day in London. "Fast healing? Not buying it," Ianto replied, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"Stop changing the subject. You were flailing and screaming and you're drenched too. That says nightmare to me. Is this something that happens often?" Jack was very concerned and then noticed the slight tremor in Ianto's hands that he tried to hide. Jack covered Ianto's hands with his and pretended he did not see them shaking.

"I shouldn't have tried to hide it from you. The last couple nights I've been having dreams about that village. Evan and Helen cut me up and start to cook me in this huge cauldron. Then they fed me to you... to all of you." The story was dark creepy, made up on the fly, but he figured it would satisfy Jack's curiosity. The truth was much darker and maybe one day he would open up to Jack about it. Another secret he kept; a darker side to his personality created the day his mother walked out and one that had been allowed to flourish with all the horrendous events he had been a part of.

Jack frowned, knowing something like this would happen. Ianto was not used to going out in the field and he had been only seconds away from having his head cut off if Jack had not stopped them. Even the most season field agents would have nightmares after that. "Come here," Jack tried to comfort him.

"I should be going," Ianto headed toward the ladder. "There is quite a mess up there that needs cleaning."

"Not so fast," Jack enjoyed the view of Ianto's backside with that wild grin of his. "The view is much better without clothes." He grabbed Ianto's hips and pulled him off the ladder. "You shouldn't be alone tonight."

Ianto was taken aback by the comment. "I'm fine. What will the others think if they find out I stayed the night?"

Jack cocked his head, not seeing why it was anybody's business. "That you fell asleep in the archives again."

The Welshman rolled his blue eyes, "And what about the state of your office?"

"It's none of their business," Jack shrugged indifferently.

Ianto sighed heavily as he tried to extract himself from his boss' grasp, but the man's lips against his neck made all thoughts foggy. "You might not care, but I don't need to give the others more of a reason to hate me than they already do."

"They don't hate you, Ianto. They just need time. You haven't exactly made an effort with them either. You keep to the archives or visitor's center until meal time and then you don't eat with the rest of us anymore." Jack rested his chin on the other man's shoulder and ran his hands up and down the stressed Ianto's arms. "Everyone misses you."

Ianto snorted in disbelief, "Did you see the mess Owen left me to clean? And I think Gwen purposely spilled her lunch over her desk for me to clean. They are worse than small children throwing tantrums." Ianto's heart pounded as he felt himself slipping further under Jack's spell of fifty-first century pheromones. It felt nice to be wanted by and worried for by someone even if it was someone he had conflicting emotions about.

"Leave it for them to clean in the morning. If they complain I will tell them you were acting on my orders not to clean up after them. Maybe they will think twice about purposely making messes. I think I'll make them clean topless in cold temperatures. It will be great character building."

"Sir, now that is harassment. Plus, I think Gwen will get the wrong idea. I cannot in good conscious leave the mess we made up there."

Jack smirked as Ianto's OCD tendencies rose to the surface. "If you clean it, it's only going to get messy again. Though the idea of watching you clean naked, maybe with one of those feather dusters. Oh, the things I can do to you."

The lecherous grin made Ianto groan and grow hard again. "You are a twisted man." This time there was no menace or hatred behind the words. "I should go home." The idea of leaving the hub a mess was gnawing at him, but with Jack around he knew the man would not let him clean. Though the idea having sex with Jack on Gwen's and Owen's desks and leaving a mess was oddly appealing.

"I'll join you." Jack did not care if there was an invitation hidden in Ianto's statement or not. He was inviting himself over.

Ianto just rolled his eyes, knowing Jack would do as he pleased. "But you are not making a mess of my flat or you will be the one cleaning naked with a feather duster and apron."

"I can't tell. Are you encouraging bad behaviour or not?"

"Oi," Ianto rolled his eyes and climbed the ladder, ignoring the cat calls from below. Now the small twinges of regret were seeping in as he was free from the effect of the pheromones or at least that was the excuse Ianto used to lessen the guilt gnawing at him. The fine line between love and hate had never been more blurred than it was at this moment.

"Great. Just great." Ianto picked up his clothes that were in no shape to be put on in their ripped state. How was he going to explain the damage to his tailor? The Welshman refused to go home naked. What would his neighbours think of their quiet, unassuming neighbour coming home in the middle of the night starkers? Not to mention trying to explain it to the police. Then again, it was easy to run down to the lockers to get a change of clothes, even if the only outfit he had there at the moment was the one that Ianto worked out in: a red zippered hoodie and black track suit bottoms. Why was going home naked even a thought that crossed his mind? The answer was simple: Jack Harkness and Ianto knew Jack would join in that game without hesitation. Ianto made it halfway across the main hub floor when the cog door began to roll back.

"Shit," Ianto tried to dive behind one of the desks before who ever was returning saw him and would have to come up with a reasonable excuse as to why he was streaking through the hub.

_It rained in the hub and my clothes got wet. This is Torchwood after all._

_I like to clean the hub naked. No._

_My clothes are invisible. No._

_Weevil guts got on my suit. Not quite._

_Naked hide and seek with Jack. Might give him ideas._

_Jack spanked me over his desk. Now I'm getting ideas._

"Ianto, are you okay down there?" Tosh turned a bright shade of red, seeing the naked man try to hide. This was behaviour she expected out of Jack or Owen, but not Ianto. She tried to avoid her eyes when Ianto stood up and everything came into full view, bit she could not look away.

"I...um...I can explain," Ianto stuttered, but was still in a state of shock to cover up.

"I...I...left my mobile," Tosh quickly swiped the small device from her desk. "Have a good evening, Ianto." The friends could not look at each other in the eye and the woman made a hasty retreat, the image forever burned in her mind.

Once the cog doors closed, Ianto glared at a laughing Jack who looked too amused by what had unfolded. "Oi, stop staring." Now he ran full speed to the lockers to put some clothes on.

* * *

Ianto was surprised that Jack behaved on the drive to his place. There was a part of the Welshman that hoped the older would have tried to get frisky, but he had no such luck.

Ianto opened the door to his flat and let Jack in. "Do you want something to drink? Something to eat?" His face was still flushed from his encounter with Tosh.

"You look good in red," Jack flirted as he played with the zipper to Ianto's hoodie. "I could go for some coffee. I bet you keep the best stuff here."

"Very well. Just don't make a mess while I'm gone," Ianto teasingly warned before heading into the kitchen.

Once the delicious aroma of brewing coffee started waft in from the kitchen, Jack made himself comfortable on the couch. He looked around, taking in sparse decor. It was very bachelor pad looking, something he had not expected from Ianto. The only sort of decoration was a bronze picture frame with about ten people in the picture. "Torchwood outing?" Jack mused to himself. Everyone seemed so happy in the picture. It did not take long for him to pick Ianto and Lisa out, who both looked very happy. "Mickey?" Jack scrunched his forehead up in confusion as he noticed the man at the edge of the picture.

"Excuse me?" Ianto returned holding two mugs of steaming coffee. He paled when he saw the frame in Jack's hand. It wasn't as of the picture was hidden, but with the events of the evening looking at the picture made the guilt become renewed with a vengeance.

"I used to know Mickey. We traveled together for a while." Jack took one of the cups from Ianto and offered a flirty smile.

"His name wasn't Mickey. It was Samuel." Ianto growled and grabbed the frame hastily from Jack and placed it picture side down. "Just leave it be," the now angry man yelled, displacing his anger onto an innocent Jack.

"I'm sorry," Jack said sincerely. He had no intention of angering Ianto. Whatever warmth and good feelings there had been between the two earlier was long gone and it was colder than the coldest night on Antarctica.

Ianto knew he should not be mad, but he was and pretty mad at that. A deep scowl set on his face and Ianto sat in a chair far from Jack, pulling his knees to his chest. "I think you should leave after you are done." Ianto's voice cracked and his mug slipped from his hand and crashed to the floor. "This was wrong. All wrong. I'm just as bad as you now, aren't I? I fucked my boss because I wanted to feel needed. I'm a whore. God, what am I doing to my life?"

"Ianto?" Jack for once was at a loss for words.

Ianto either did not hear Jack or chose to ignore him before he continued his rant, "Is this what Torchwood does to people? Destroy them so they have no choice but to stay until it kills you? You killed my killed my girlfriend and yet I have these feelings for you. How fucked up am I? Why am I so bloody attracted to you? It disgusts me. It excites me. I can't make up my mind. I lied to you to give me this job. How can you not hate me? Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance? I don't want to have these memories anymore. Make them go away, please." Ianto begged as tears streaked down his face.

"The painful screams, crying out for death's release. The smell of burning flesh. Climbing over dead bodies. I had to push several dead bodies off of me so I could get to Lisa. Why did I survive that? How did I survive that? I should have just stayed there and let the flames overtake me. They were so close I could feel the heat starting to burn my skin. Every time I close my eyes I'm back at Canary Wharf, trying to escape. Why didn't you shoot me when you had the gun pointed at my head? They should should have let them make me their next meal. Why did you have to save the day like you always do? There were so many chances for me to die. Why couldn't it just happen?" By the end, Ianto had tears streaming down his face which was bright red. "When will the pain stop?" Sobbing wracked his fragile body and soon Ianto began to hyperventilate. His chest felt like someone was squeezing and would not let go and with each gasp less air made its way to Ianto's lungs until everything began to spin and blacking out was imminent.

Jack did not realise Ianto had been in this much pain and he forgot that he was still only a kid at times. Everything the twenty-four year old had been through in the last eight months was more than most go through in a lifetime and as he learned earlier Ianto had a rough childhood too. It was as if the fates had it out for Ianto since birth, but Jack wanted to change that for him.

"The pain never really stops," Jack offered the truth. Most people would offer fake promises that it will eventually pass because in the long run lying would do more harm. "Ianto, look at me," he knelt in front of the hysterical man. "You need to calm down and get your breathing under control. Breathe like this." Jack demonstrated how Ianto should breathe like he was blowing out a candle.

Ianto looked at Jack like he was insane, but he followed the suggestion. Between Jack's encouragement and the breathing technique, Ianto eventually got his breathing under control. The exhausted man sighed and hid his face in his hands, embarrassed to have fallen apart in front of Jack of all people.

"Let me get that." Jack picked up the shattered mug. "Why don't you get into bed and I'll bring you some warm milk. You have milk, right?"

Ianto nodded, "You don't need to do this. I'll be fine." The whispered words betrayed the truth on his face.

"I don't think so." Jack countered. He doubted Ianto received any counselling after Canary Wharf, which was a big mistake. He should have seen it months ago, the second time they met when Ianto asked what he was supposed to do with the memories of the horrors he had seen, but he was too wrapped up in his disgust with One to think of toll it had on the survivors. "Just get into bed, okay. I can make that an order. I know I don't need to, but I want to help." Jack pressed his lips to Ianto's forehead.

Ianto was too exhausted to argue and deep down he was glad someone was finally offering a helping hand after all this time. "Thank you, Jack," he said with complete honesty and a weary smile.

"Anything for you, Ianto." Jack watched as the other man disappeared into the bedroom.

By the time Jack warmed up the milk and bought two mugs of the warm drink to the bedroom, Ianto was already fast asleep. A fond smile graced Jack's face as he watched the peaceful slumber. No matter what deception there was in the past there was no more anger to be felt toward the young Welshman. There was only warm feelings now. Jack returned the mugs to the kitchen, shut off the lights and stripped down to his pants and undershirt.

The immortal quietly climbed into bed and pulled the covers up around both of them. "I'll be here whenever you need me," Jack whispered, taking the sleeping Ianto into his arms. The grin grew on the Captain's face as Ianto instinctively snuggled in closer.

This became a ritual for the two. After everyone else left for the night, Jack and Ianto would head to Ianto's flat. Sometimes they would have dinner; take away or one of them cooking. Some nights they shagged to the sun came up, but every night they talked. Opening up to each other. It was great medicine for both their battered souls and it only deepened the bond they shared. The rest of the team was none the wiser about the relationship, even if Tosh almost caught the duo making out in the archives on several occasions. All they saw was Ianto finally opening up, becoming more social with the team and that his sarcasm beat out Owen's any day.

Then, Jack disappeared, and Ianto's life was shattered once more. He came back to life, kissed him in front of the team and then was gone. No note. No call. No explanation. Just pain and countless questions. As Ianto learned early in life; nothing good lasts forever and Jack Harkness was just another reminder of that lesson.

**The End**


End file.
